Short Story / A cowards fate

Please, listen carefully, fore I have something to tell you. A story to be more specific, a story which I have never before told a living sole. It is a tale of how this great land became what it is today – It is a tale which no one else, at least no one else whom is still alive, can tell – thus I feel is it my duty to tell it…to tell it, before I pass from this world.

Our great lands, peaceful and prosperous as they are now, have not always been this way. For many a year now, somewhere in the neighborhood of seventy years to be more exact, ours lands – these seven once sovereign and warring nations, have been united into a single, peaceful, prosperous, and powerful state; under the masterful leadership of one that is known as Galvin. Though, it has not always been this way – Once there were seven nations, seven nations which seems to despise each other, thus nothing but war would be traded between them.

For several hundred, maybe even thousands years, those seven nations would wage all out war with each other. Although, they did not seems to have a goal – In most wars one side seeks something – to destroy them, to conquer them, to plunder their riches, to stop them – but in these wars they seemed to fight just for the sake of fighting, but never truly tried to destroy the others, nor did they ever try to stop the fighting. They fought simply for the sake of fighting – Almost like it was a “tradition” for them.

But that was before Galvin was born – Before Galvin set out to stop it. He seemed to be able to see the damage that it was causing to there society, something no one else seemed to be able to see – or if they could they didn’t seem to care. Thus, even though most didn’t wish it, he vowed to halt the fighting, and save what remained of there civilization, there culture.

He would be able to convince a rather small amount of people to join him – Mainly people whom had had there families torn apart by the fighting; those whom would want it to stop above all others. He would then retreat far into the mountains, where they would not the bothered, and would set out to train them. Though he had never fought in a battle, Galvin himself was very skilled with a blade – Thus, he taught what he knew of wielding a blade, and other such skills to those who he now commanded.

Many months would pass, and as they did they would become nothing short masters of there weapons. As there skill gained word would spread though the lands, despite there seclusion, and as it did many want-to-be warriors would start to migrate though the mountains to join Galvin’s Militia. As they appeared, Galvin would welcome them – instructing those who he saw as most experienced to train them.

About two years would pass before Galvin saw his force as complete and ready to fight. By then, with all the migrants, his force has changed from a pitiful gathering to a rather massive force. Also by then every man had became an expert with his weapon – In wielding it, in forging and repairing it, in caring for it, and how to deal quick, fatal blows to a target with a very small amount of effort with it.

Then, he would march them forth upon his first target – the most powerful and well equipped nation. There forces would converge, there blades would clash, but only one side would walk away. That side would be Galvin’s. Which had sliced though there unorganized and rather cocky forces with utter ease, and very few loses. This would shoot there moral though the roof, and without waiting to recover they would march forth towards the next most powerful nations.

Seven great battles would be waged between Galvin and the other nations before they would all fall. There forces having been nothing short of devastated. Though, even though they had all been defeated once, they were not quite done, yet. The Seven Nations leaders would, for the first time, call there forces together to fight a common foe. Then they would send there troops forth into there own towns and villages, with an order to all able-bodied civilians to report for training and deployment to fight Galvin.

They would motivate them, not by the order alone, but with the threat that anyone found to have not reported with be imprisoned and there family, friends, children, parents would be slaughtered. This sent many that normally would have resisted to go and fight, then, the few that would still resit would be rounded and forced to fight. Then, all that had been rounded up, where given weapons and quickly given little more than “pointers”at the art of fighting and then they would be ordered to march upon the enemy.

This is where I come into the story. I was one of those whom they rounded up. I had both a wife, and a daughter, with another on the way, so I could not resist. I could not allow them to be harmed. I was a decently ranked officer within my local town’s guard when I was “drafted.” Thus, there numbers now being massive and leaders being scarce, they would place pretty much anyone whom heard any type of rank in charge of a handful, or two, of recruits from there locality.

I had never seen battle, but none-the-less I taught the men placed under me what I had learned within the guard. I was able to teach them some basics on hand-to-hand combat, as well as some basics on first aid, and some very basics on how to hold, and swing a sword. Though, I couldn’t teach them much as we would have only about three days before we were ordered to depart.

I, and those now under me, would march forth within the largest single force which has ever walked across our lands. It would not be hard to find our foe, as he had both been looking for each other. Just after sun set both of our forces would come to a halt, a couple of hundred feet away. Then, in typical fashion of the day, two parties, of three riders each, would be sent forth to the center of the battlefield to state each sides terms.

As we watched them, we all knew good and well that it was futile – We were to over confident and cocky to back down – which was understandable seeing as we outnumbered them ten-to-one, and they had came far to far to give up now. Though our confidence didn’t falter much, anxiety would seep into our lines as they rode back – fore we knew the battle would soon commence.

A few minutes would pass, in utter silence, as we awaited for the order to change would be given. Then, suddenly, the order for all soldiers – in other words, only those whom were not “drafted” – to change would be given. Without hesitation they would draw there weapons and holding them high they would change at the forces Galvin commanded – a mighty war cry erupting from them.

But, as they ran at the soldiers ran at them Galvin’s men would not move. They would remain within formation – there weapons not even drawn – 200 yards. Closer they would draw, but still they would not react – 100 yards. We began to wonder if they might be frozen in fear, as our combined force of soldiers alone outnumbered them three-to-one – 50 yards. Our soldiers would grip there weapons all the tighter, there war cry growing as well as the gap closed – 20 yards. Our anxiety grew, did they have a secrete weapon? 10 yards. Still, they would not move, our forces nearly upon them. 5 years. We heard our breath, our hearts seemed to momentarily halt within our chests, time as well seeming to stop as we watched and wait. 2 yards.

Then, it happened: In the utterly booming voice of Galvin a singe word, a single command would be issued – “STRIKE!” Then, in perfect unison, with fluency that made it appear to us onlookers to be almost like perfectly choreographed steps in a ballet, every man upon their line would draw the weapon, and in a single magnificent motion they would would strike down the changing soldier before them with effortless grace.

As we saw what what we had been told were the “elite” of us cut down like they were nothing at all our hearts would hit the ground beneath us, the icy feeling of terror flooding into every fiber of our beings. Our previous confidence seeming to crumble away. Time would stop, or at least it would seem to, as our “elite” were turned into a pile of bloody bodies in almost no time at all, though it would seems almost like an eternity to us.

Our commander, our leader, our most seasoned general would be mortified. His jaw had fallen slack, a look of “this CANNOT be happening” upon his face, as all of the color drained out of his once tanned face. For several minutes he would sit there, his mouth moving but nothing coming out, as he watched them fall. Then, as he saw Galvin’s men return to there formation, the last our ours having fallen, like nothing had happened he would finally try to give the final order.

Though, as he tried, it would come out as a horse whisper, at best. He would clear his throat, his eye contact with the enemy saying cemented in place as he again attempted it. This time though, he would been able to pull his voice back to him from the depths of his being – “Everyone, CHARGE!!” Even though the order was given, and heard by all, none would move. Our fear was to great. Thrice more he would give the order, each time his voice becoming more despite and pleading.

But Galvin would not wait for us to gain enough courage to charge at him. As the forth attempt failed Galvin would issue the same command to his own men. Whom, unlike us, would not hesitate. From there hips and from there backs they would draw there weapons, again in near perfect unison and would change at us. They would unleash a deafening war cry which thundered so loudly that it made that which our soldiers had released look like a whisper.

We would watch as they came at us and though he wouldn’t have thought it possible our fear would skyrocket far beyond what he had felt hence-forth. I and my men would be positioned about midway though the flanks, and we watched in still building horror as those before us would lash out at the charging line. Though, instead of striking them down as we had hoped, they mowed us down with even more ease than they had our soldiers.

As I watched the lines of men before me dwindle away I would start to tremble – fear starting to overcome me. I watched, my horror still mounting as I felt the icy cold breath of death upon the back of my neck. Then, suddenly as panic shot though me, so would a sharp, stabbing pain though my chest. I would collapse down to my knees, my breath starting to become labored. As the pain grew, I would cry out in pain – one of my men jumping to my side, bombarding me with questions and concerns.

The pain within my chest would grow sharply all of a sudden, as it did something within me would snap. All that had held be here – My wife, my children – would disappear from my mind. My primitive instinct to survive would take me over. My sole concern becoming to escape – to live. In a roar of anger would rise with lightening speed to my feet. My fist lashing out to slam into the jaw of the man at my side, whom would fall to the ground clutching his now shattered jaw.

Then, my primitive, ape-born instincts would cause me to dive at one of my own. I would lash out, wrenching my now drawn sword into the gut of one of MY mounted fighters. He would fall to the ground, clutching the wound, screams of pain escaping him. My men would move to stop me, but I would be far to quick in mounting the horse. Then, giving it a swift kick I would run.

I would rise that horse, as hard as it would go, for many hours. I would rise it till the horse would collapse to the ground – dead from a heart attack, I believe. As the horse fell, my head would slam hard unto a rock which was halfway embedded into the ground and I would be knocked unconscious. Great nightmares would visit me that night. Nightmares of what I had done. Horrors of betrayal and revenge which would come upon me. Great nightmares of the horrors of what would await me on “the other side.”

Nearly two days would pass before I would reawaken. Though my head was throbbing I would leap to my feet, thinking for a moment I was still upon the battlefield. Then, suddenly the realization of what I had done would hit me like a two-by-four to the heart. My knees would buckle, causing me to fall to the ground as tears started to stream down my face.

I don’t know how long I would lie there, more than two days I know. I lied there until a man, whom was traveling back to a town near by came across me and, seeing my condition, got me into the back of his wagon. He took me into town, to his wife, whom was a very nice woman, who would do her best to nurse me back to health. Though, I didn’t not want his help, nor her’s, I had not the will to protest.

Over the next few months I might as well have been dead. I had lost my will to live. Not a once did I speak, or even move. I lied there, drifting in and out of consciousness day and night, nightmares still haunting my every moment – be I asleep or awake. Every bit of consciousness seeming to have nearly disappeared. Then, one day, for no apparent reason I would leave.

I don’t know how. Nor why. I have no idea were I got the strength, nor the will. All I know is I left. I could no longer take accepting there charity with what I had done weighting down on my conscious, I suppose. I wanted to die, I thought I didn’t deserve to live – no, I knew I didn’t. However, I was both far to afraid of what hells awaited me and I was far to much of a @#$x%x to do it myself.

So, I would sink into the hills around the town and would make myself a small shack and I would live. But, I don’t know if you could truly call it life. I stayed there, hardly ever moving unless hunger or thrust overcame me. But, as time drifted by the [internal] toucher of what I had done would never lesson, but instead it would grow with every passing day.

Now, by my own calender, I estimate that about seventy years have passed, which means I am now about ninety. I know that death will soon take me, and I have looked forward to it for many years now – but I do not believe I can take it for even another day. I have suffered for over seventy years though nightmares, hallucinations, and flash backs and now I will suffer no more – Or at least not upon his world. Fore, within my hand I now hold a vile of one of the strongest poisons known – made from various poisonousness plants and herbs which naturally grow here in these mountains and from knowledge from my days as a guardsmen. Now, to my lips I hold it, and gulp down it’s vileness.

I only have a few moments before I fade from his world, and I welcome whatever is to greet me on the other side – even if it is nothing more than an eternity of suffering. I cannot express in words the sorrow I feel for my actions that day – not only for my men, but for my wife and daughter, whom were surely killed. Just, please know, that I am sor-...

The end…

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